Chapter 15

Killian sighed with relief as he read the second letter penned by Dravyn's hand. It was a simple note, and Dravyn's script was rough. That was no surprise to Killian. He remembered well the words Dravyn had spoken to him a century and a half ago. Despite his title, Dravyn had grown up a gardener and had only learned to read and write from a former noble toiling alongside him.

Although Killian's feelings were confused, he could at least rest easy, knowing that Dravyn had professed he was not among the dragons preying upon magickind. Killian knew little of Dravyn, but he was willing to offer a small bit of trust in his words. Again, Dravyn had withheld his reasons for his long silence.

Curiosity weighed heavily on Killian, and he needed to look into Dravyn's eyes to hear the tale that had kept his mate from him. But Killian worried about how to arrange such a meeting. He had no clue where Dravyn lived, and the D'Vaires were ignorant of their relationship. That made it impossible for Killian to show up at Dravyn's doorstep and demand answers.

So, he would have to suggest Dravyn pick a spot for them. If Dravyn refused, Killian would have to consider carefully how to proceed.

"That's a stern frown, what is bothering you?"

Killian jerked in his chair and turned to Conley behind him. "I had some thinking to do," Killian said with a frown. "I should've known better than to do it in the Great Hall of Castle Leolinnia."

"Nonsense, it is where we all usually find ourselves," Conley replied with a smirk and not a hint of remorse for scaring Killian in his amber gaze. The Reverent Knight took a seat in a high-backed chair opposite Killian and adjusted the sword he was never without to get comfortable. "What ails you?"

Killian crossed his ankles and moved his bare feet incrementally closer to the roaring fire in one of the giant fireplaces built into the stone walls. "I've received two missives from my mate."

"Have you?" Conley asked, his brown brows flying upward. "Did His Grace explain where he has been hiding since 1369?"

"Dravyn insists the tale is too long to write."

"Then you must stand before him and take his measure as you listen to his words to determine if they are lies or truth."

"My thoughts exactly. My dilemma is where to have such a meeting and how I will feel if he refuses."

"Take one problem at a time, Killian," Conley said. "For your safety, the spot must be neutral. I cannot allow you to venture onto the lands of dragons. As proud as I was to be a dragon Emperor, I have lost all faith in my former brethren. Too many of them wish us dead. Ask him to suggest a place, and I will accompany you. If he refuses, we will speak again to determine how to proceed."

Cocking his head to the side, Killian studied Conley. "It is a private meeting."

"No, it is not. You are no simple man, and Killian the Dwyer is too important to the druids and our Council. Not to mention what a dear friend you are to me and Drys. Because I love you, I will keep this meeting between us. If Drys or anyone else discovers it, I'm afraid you will find yourself surrounded by an army."

"I would never ask you to keep a secret from your mate."

Conley's smile was coy. "Have no fear, Killian. My relationship with Drys is far too strong not to handle this tiny secret. The minute we return, I will confess everything to my mate and put all my effort into wooing my way into his good graces again. In fact, I beg of you to allow me to upset Drys; it is so rare for us to fight, I do not get the opportunity to—"

Killian held up a hand to stop the flow of Conley's words. "Save me the details of your plan. I have spent most of my life without the pleasure of a man's company."

"My apologies," Conley replied, his grin far from contrite. He stood and brushed his hands over his tunic to smooth out non-existent wrinkles. "Keep me updated on the situation."

"Are you leaving? It is nearly time for Hilanore to tempt our senses with a delicious meal."

"Yes, I know, but I suddenly need to find Drys and practice my wooing skills. I have gone since morning without one of his kisses and am woefully deprived of my other half."

"I envy what you and Drystan have," Killian told Conley truthfully.

The Reverent Knights were together more than apart, and their love flowed around them like a living thing. It was beautiful to witness the adoration in their eyes and the tenderness of their touches. Conley often rested upon the arm of Drystan's chair as if finding a seat of his own put too much distance between them. It was the kind of relationship Killian's soul yearned for, but his heart had grown wary.

Conley rested his hand on Killian's shoulder. "I plead with Fate for everyone I love to know what it feels like to have someone at their side. Since I was nineteen, I have had Drys. Not every moment of our lives has been perfect, and there are memories I wish I could erase. But thanks to you and the others in the castle on that tragic day in 1369, we were given a second chance. It was your mate who insisted I should not lose a moment with Drys. Dravyn is owed my gratitude, and I do not take my life for granted. I believe Fate will reward you with the kind of love Drys gives me every day. I will not give Fate any peace until you are happy, and you already know how persistent I can be."

Killian rested his palm over Conley's fingers. "Thank you. I am so grateful we ventured to Castle Draconis that day. Not only was it the day I found my mate, but the day I was granted two of my dearest friends. Know that I will not hold it against you if you cannot keep our secret from Drystan."

"It will not be a secret for long. I insist you reunite with His Grace as soon as possible."

The constant threat of death, thanks to marauding dragons, had taught Killian not to hold in any words filling his heart. "I love you, Conley."

"I love you too. Write to him today."

"It will be done as soon as my belly is full," Killian assured the Reverent Knight. With a smile, Conley sauntered out, and Killian released his breath slowly. He would not rest until he sent another letter to Dravyn. The sooner they were face-to-face, the better.

◆◆◆

Lying did not come easily to Dravyn, but he refused to mention to his family that he'd arranged a meeting with Killian the Dwyer. It had taken some convincing to get the D'Vaire women to allow Dravyn to venture into town by himself with the goods they wished to sell. They'd only relented when he'd fibbed and told them he could use some time alone. If they were upset by his words, they did not mention it.

Despite how they had banded together following their escape from Castle Draconis, their family dynamic remained strained. Aleksander kept to himself. Mirroring their King, the D'Vaire dragons did the tasks necessary to survive without complaint. Once their chores were finished, Dravyn and the others went to their rooms. Dravyn rarely stayed there for long. After limping out to the garden, he tended his plants and babbled his thoughts to the greenery.

It was a good life and exponentially better than the decades Dravyn had spent chained outside at Castle Draconis. But he yearned for more, which was why he'd flown to a forest just beyond the human town he visited weekly. Although Dravyn knew a few humans by name, he had no friends.

With his heart racing and his hair hanging in tangled clumps over his forehead, Dravyn quickly tugged on his clothing and checked his large bag to ensure he had lost none of their precious goods as he'd soared through the air. The D'Vaires had plenty of coin to keep them comfortable thanks to their prosperous relationship with the humans, but Dravyn hated waste.

Thankfully, all the vegetables from his garden were accounted for and the specialty goods made for a traveling merchant were also present. Each month, new customers popped into the town as word spread of the talented D'Vaire family—though they preferred to keep their court name private.

The humans told no one they were dragons and helped with selling. They were given a commission on everything sold, so the village prospered. It was a situation that worked well for everyone involved.

But the pile of jangling coins Dravyn would have in his pocket by morning was far from his thoughts as he leaned against a tree to catch his breath. Something fluttered in his peripheral vision, and a shiver of fear raced through his beast as Killian and a man Dravyn only recognized from the moments he'd spent with his corpse appeared a few feet away.

Killian looked different. His earthy eyes shone with flecks of gold that glowed slightly in the dark. Dravyn wasn't sure if he'd grown more beautiful or if the planes of his face were bolder, but Killian overwhelmed him.

"Your Grace, allow me to introduce Reverent Knight Conley Gylde," Killian said quietly. "He refused my suggestion that I venture here alone."

The Reverent Knight strode boldly to Dravyn and stuck out his hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. I must thank you for insisting in 1369 that no one part me from Drys. Without your intervention, the sorcerers I so dearly love would've felt compelled to keep distance between us."

Unsure what to say, Dravyn looked down. His gaze hit the crumpled leaves resting on the forest floor, and he nervously reached out to shake the Reverent Knight's hand. "Nice to meet you, Reverent Knight. Please call me Dravyn." Belatedly, he remembered he should have kneeled to the former dragon Emperor, but thankfully Conley did not appear to notice his mistake.

The Reverent Knight smiled. "Then I insist you call me Conley."

"If that is what you wish," Dravyn replied.

A few tense moments of silence followed. Dravyn yearned to lift his chin and stare at Killian, but that was too bold an action for a man used to being at the mercy of others.

Conley cleared his throat. "I'll step away to allow you two some privacy."

"My thanks," Killian replied.

Dravyn noted Conley's retreat, then was startled to find ten bare toes peeking from beneath Killian's cloak as the druidic leader moved closer to him.

"I was glad to receive your letters," Killian said.

Daring to glance up, Dravyn rubbed his lips together and searched for his confidence. "But you are here to discover why it took me so long to write."

"Over a hundred and fifty years have passed, Dravyn. Surely I am owed some explanation."

"Did word reach you that Imperial Duke Bernal declared himself ruler of the dragons after Fate did not select a new Emperor?" Dravyn asked.

Having Killian near brought Dravyn a sense of both strange peace and fear. Fate had paired them, but was she mistaken? Dravyn had long ago lost his issues with sorcery. He had spent too long being punished by his own people not to believe evil existed, but it wasn't relegated to a single race. It could flourish anywhere. Would Fate be so cruel as to offer Dravyn a mate with a dark heart?

"Yes," Killian replied. "But he is dead now. The dragons have no ruler. Yet they continue to prey upon magickind. Their lust for our demise has not wavered. I hope you spoke the truth about not having any part in the many lives lost since 1369."

Dravyn shook his head. "No, I have harmed no one. I have nothing against magick."

Reaching out, Killian placed two fingers on Dravyn's chin and forced his head up gently. It reminded Dravyn of their first meeting when Killian had done the same. "Why will you not meet my gaze?"

His mouth suddenly dry as they stared at one another, Dravyn swallowed thickly. Up so close, he was startled anew by Killian's beauty and the haunting light of his eyes. There was no shyness about the leader of the druids. He peered at Dravyn as if he wished for a way to discern every secret in his soul.

Dravyn's lips parted to speak, but Killian's dark brows snapped together, and he frowned severely. "You are injured," Killian growled.

"I-I was chained in the castle's garden. The shackle was thick and heavy. Often my skin was torn away, and the links scraped to the bone."

"Sit down," Killian ordered.

Without thinking, Dravyn did as he was told and ignored the cold ground beneath his cloak. To his surprise, gentle fingers tugged at the laces of his boot, and moments later, Dravyn's foot was bared to the cool air.

"Look at the scarring," Killian murmured as he traced over the unsightly grooves left behind by Dravyn's many years of servitude.

A soft glow formed around his skin, and Dravyn's gaze widened as Killian used magick to mend him. His dragon screeched with fear, then roared with triumph. In a flash, his beast went from fearing magick to elated that Dravyn was restored to perfect health.

"Who did this to you?" Killian asked.

So preoccupied with the change in his dragon, Dravyn barely heard the words. "Imperial Duke Bernal declared the D'Vaires cursed. We were blamed for the deaths of the Emperors. Aleksander was imprisoned in the dungeon and beaten for our every misstep. He is a changed man. The rest of us were forced into servitude. I was kept outside, chained in the garden."

"I wish he wasn't dead so I could kill him myself."

Shocked by the fervent words, Dravyn dared to meet Killian's gorgeous gaze again. "With the help of another, Bernal's son aided us in our escape. Now, Zane and Marcus are D'Vaires too. The dragons do not know where we are. We wish to keep it that way."

"Have no fear, I do not converse with other dragons. They continue to diligently work toward destroying magickind. But we will persevere. They cannot end us."

"I could not write," Dravyn confessed. "My every move was watched. Once we were free, we had to build a life. We are safe now. I know my words were short, but…but I do not know what is expected of me."

Killian said nothing as he helped Dravyn secure his boot and rise. Then Killian took a step back and bowed his head. "All I ask is for a chance to know you."

With his dragon now curious about their mate, Dravyn's answer was an easy one. "I wish to know you too."

"I hope you will allow me another visit with you soon. You are far more beautiful than I remembered."

Blushing at Killian's praise, Dravyn smiled at the ground. "I thought the same of you. The gold in your eyes is new."

"I have devoted myself to growing my magick. Fate and nature have rewarded me with some changes to my appearance. Some permanent—like the gold—and others temporary." Killian stretched out his hands to touch a nearby tree, and Dravyn's gaze widened as vines appeared on Killian's fair skin. It was as if the druid himself had grown into a living thing. Dravyn had never seen anything as beautiful in his sheltered life.

"Stunning," Dravyn murmured.

"Write me again, Dravyn. Will you meet me here again in a week's time?"

Without a clue how he'd arrange it, Dravyn instantly agreed. "Yes."

"Until then, be well."

"You too."

Killian stepped away, and Dravyn watched as he and Conley disappeared a few moments later. Dravyn didn't know what the future held, but a spark of excitement swept through him. His dragon roared, and Dravyn didn't know why a single spell had enticed the beast, but he was cautiously enamored of his beast's interest in their mate. Hope stirred in Dravyn's chest, but Fate's fortunes were mercurial, and it was far too soon to know if a relationship with the leader of the druids was possible.